


The Moon Shines Bright

by libellules



Category: Outer Banks (TV)
Genre: Angst, F/M, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, JJ (Outer Banks) Needs a Hug, JJ is not good at handling his emotions, M/M, Unrequited Love, but his friends love his anyway
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-03
Updated: 2020-07-03
Packaged: 2021-03-04 23:01:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,441
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25054294
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/libellules/pseuds/libellules
Summary: JJ didn't always know he was in love with Pope. He realized that slowly, gradually, like the tides sweeping closer and closer to the coast. He didn't realize he loved Pope until it was too late.
Relationships: JJ/Pope (Outer Banks), Kiara/Pope (Outer Banks), Sarah Cameron/John B. Routledge
Comments: 11
Kudos: 44





	The Moon Shines Bright

_”If you don’t receive love from the ones who are meant to love you, you will never stop looking for it.”_

__

__

_—Robert Goolrick._

* * *

JJ realizes he is in love with his best friend really late in life. Too late, actually.

* * *

JJ meets Pope in the sixth grade. Pope went to the same elementary school as John B and JJ, but they never had any classes together so their paths never really crossed before. Come the fall of the sixth grade though, all three boys are assigned to same reading group. 

Ten-year-old JJ hates reading group because the letters are swimming around the pages and, by the time JJ manages to get them still enough to recognize what the words mean, John B and Pope are staring just a little too hard. JJ knows that most kids read faster than him but he doesn’t know how they get the letters to stay still so quickly. As always, John B picks up where JJ leaves off and then moves on to his own section of the reading. 

Eventually Pope picks up on it and starts to help JJ when he spits out random sounds as he tries to corral the letters on the page. Pope doesn’t laugh like the other kids do and he doesn’t read _for_ JJ like John B does. He just offers a word here and there or gives JJ a smile when he’s red in the face and one of the other kids is calling him the r-word. In fifth grade, JJ had decided he wasn’t going to cry when people called him stupid any more. He wasn’t going to give anybody the satisfaction of it. Plus, he’s ten and crying is for babies. 

The other kids were giggling and John B was reading so quickly that even the sound of the words were jumbled together, JJ latched onto Pope’s smile as all of instincts screamed _cry_ or _kick_ or _punch_. 

A few weeks later, JJ noticed Pope sat alone at lunch. He would sit at the end of a long table and read while he ate from a Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles lunchbox. JJ _loved_ the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles and Pope never laughed at him and sometimes he wished John B would talk less. So, he marched right up to Pope one day and asked him to sit with JJ and John B. 

“What?” Pope had asked, eyes wide as they darted around the cafeteria. 

“Sit with us.”

“Why?”

“Because you’re sitting all by yourself and that’s dumb.”

JJ didn’t know how to talk nicely to people or how to explain that he really, really wanted to be friends with Pope. 

“And I like your lunchbox.”

“Oh, okay,” Pope had agreed with a cheeky smile on his face. He slid his matching plastic Tupperware into his lunchbox and zipped it up, following JJ to the round table where he and John B always sat. 

“Hi!” John B grinned happily, a smudge of peanut butter hanging from his lip. 

“Hi, I’m Pope.”

“I know,” John B explained, wiping the peanut butter off with his tongue and grabbing a handful of goldish. “We’re in the same reading group.”

John B loved new people and never worried about whether somebody liked him or not. John B simply existed and enjoyed whoever’s company he could find. If somebody was listening, John B was talking. If Pope was going to be their friend, John B would be all for it no questions asked. 

JJ was usually a bit more hesitant. He liked to let John B do the talking, to let John B pick their lunch table or which kickball they would use at recess. By middle school they had developed a familiar and comfortable pattern where John B would do all the talking and JJ would come up with the ideas behind the scenes. So when JJ was the one to pull Pope into their group, John B trusted his judgement immediately. And within the lunch period, the three were thick as thieves. 

Pope liked to fish. In fact, Pope’s dad owned the best seafood place in town—the one Big John would pick up from when they needed to celebrate. Pope also had a PlayStation and he knew how to surf. 

“I’m not very good, but I only learned how this summer,” Pope explained, taking a bite of his pudding. JJ was still working on his half of John B’s turkey sandwich. He had a few fruit snacks that Big John had packed for him in John B’s lunch, but he hadn’t eaten breakfast that morning or dinner the night before and he was trying his best to cherish this lunch. 

“We surf like all the time. JJ’s really good,” John B bragged. 

“You could come surf with us after school today?” JJ suggested, taking a bite of his sandwich and chewing it so many times that the food had practically dissolved by the time he swallowed it. 

“I have to ask my parents, but that sounds really fun.”

Pope’s parents had agreed and the three boys had gone down to John B’s favorite spot on the island and surfed until the sun was setting and their tummies were rumbling. And then they did the same thing that weekend. And then Pope would join JJ for sleepovers at the Chateau or trips to the movie theater or early morning fishing trips on the HMS Pogue where Big John reprimanded them for being too loud and scaring away all the fish. 

It was so easy and familiar that sometimes JJ forgot they hadn’t known Pope for very long. 

They meet Kie the following summer when Pope goes to the same summer camp as her. She joins the group just as quickly and easily as Pope had—for some insane reason, she didn’t have any other friends—and by the time eighth grade starts they are officially the Pogues.

* * *

John B is the first one to kiss a girl. 

It’s freshman year—when Kie is at the Kook high school and John B, JJ, and Pope are on their own at the Pogue high school—and John B kissed Allison Davis during a game of spin the bottle. They’re sitting in somebody’s basement and JJ’s wearing one of John B’s Hawaiian button-ups and is far more interested in the beer than the game.

JJ kissed Courtney Richards about seven minutes after, but John B will always hold the title of the first Pogue to actually kiss a girl. 

And, honestly, JJ doesn’t get what the big deal is. 

Sure, it doesn’t feel inherently _bad_ when Courtney’s lips pressed up against his. It’s a bit colder and slimier than JJ had realized kissing was. But her lips are soft and when she pulls away JJ can still feel where her lips have been all over his own hours later. He wonders what all the fuss is about, for a messy and kind of gross thing that sort of feels good but mostly just feels like spit. He figures everybody’s first kiss is a little weird, especially when a dozen other kids are watching it happen. 

But he kisses girls because apparently girls _really_ like kissing him. Which is all completely knew and likely due to the fact that he, John B, and Pope had started to work out that summer. In middle school, JJ had always been scrawny and he knew that most of the time he smelled bad and yelled too loudly. None of the girls had ever given up a second look. Until freshman year, when they wouldn’t stop looking. And the more girls he kisses, the more he understands why people like kissing so much. Especially once he learns how to use his tongue. And then he very quickly learns that making out can mean a lot more than just kissing. And then he gets a hand job and he really gets what all the fuss is about. 

Pope has his first kiss at a party but it’s not during some stupid game, it’s tucked in the back of the house where the music isn’t as loud and nobody is watching. The girl is in their math class and she’s really pretty and for some reason—one that JJ really can’t explain—he’s not as happy for Pope as he was for John B. 

Then John B is the first—and only—Pogue to every have a real girlfriend. Her name is Emily and she’s a sophomore but for some reason she wants to date John B. As much as JJ understands why John B is so obsessed with kissing girls, he really doesn’t understand why John B wants to have a girlfriend. Girls are still really annoying and it’s much easier to just kiss a girl and never talk to her again than have to find money to take her on dates and pretend to care about her interests. It sounds completely exhausting. 

But JJ doesn’t mind the fact that John B is dating a girl because now JJ and Pope hang out all the time. 

They fish on the end of the dock by Pope’s house and Pope let’s JJ use the good controller for the PlayStation. Heyward isn’t JJ’s biggest fan, but he always offers JJ dinner when JJ is hanging out at Pope’s and the food is warm and JJ can take seconds if he asks nicely and sometimes they even let JJ sleepover. It feels silly and stupid sometimes just how nice it is to fall asleep at the Heyward’s house. 

It’s the complete opposite of JJ’s house. 

JJ has never told a soul that when his dad gets mad he likes to hurt JJ. It’s a secret that he’s kept since he before he even met John B. It drove his mom away. It could get JJ placed into foster care. It could ruin his life if anybody ever found out how many nights JJ cried himself to sleep, how many times he checked to make sure his bedroom door was locked so he could breathe properly. It was uncomfortable when he was in elementary school and middle school. But by high school is was completely humiliating to be so scared of his dad, to be so pathetic and weak. Nobody could ever know. 

When he was at the Heyward’s it was easy to forget. Mrs. Heyward would insist that Pope offer JJ a pair of clean pajamas and Mr. Heyward would make the boys turn off the tv by nine thirty and they’d crawl into be in Pope’s room—JJ on a makeshift bed of throw blankets and extra bedding on the floor with Pope up on his twin bed against the wall. Pope would ramble on and on about Kiara and JJ would listen until Pope tired himself out and eventually fell asleep. 

“Are you ever going to have a girlfriend?” JJ asks when the lights have been shut off and the darkness of the bedroom makes asking questions a lot less intimidating. 

“Hey! I mean, someday. Yeah,” Pope answers. JJ hums, he hadn’t meant it like that. 

“I don’t think I want to ever have a girlfriend.”

“Why?” Pope asks, voice laced with a genuine concern and curiosity that makes JJ squirm. 

“Because girls are annoying.”

“Girls are so pretty.”

Pope’s not _wrong_ per se. But JJ doesn’t understand why everybody wants to have a girlfriend. He really doesn’t. He gets the kissing and he’s curious about the sex, but the relationship just sounds terrible. 

“Seems like a lot of work,” JJ says finally, turning onto his side and tugging the blanket up over his shoulders so all of his limbs are safely tucked under the fabric. 

“You’re a lot of work.”

“Shut up!” JJ cries, with almost no venom in his words and a smile on his lips.

* * *

Even though JJ really likes going to Pope’s house and Mrs. Heyward is really, _really_ nice to him, JJ still goes to John B’s when his dad gets mad. 

Most of the time when Luke hits him JJ hides in his room for a few days until his legs feel like walking and he’s come up with a believable story for the purple bruising around his eyes or his neck or his ribs. Nine times out of ten JJ hides and people believe his stories and JJ wonders if this time really will be the last time—because when Luke wakes up sober in the morning, sometimes he says he’s sorry and sometimes he holds JJ in a hug and tells him they’re both going to do better. He’ll tell JJ he loves him and JJ feels guilty for having locked his door, for having been so scared. 

A few times, like two times exactly, JJ sneaks out his bedroom window and hops on his bike and rides as fast as he can to the Chateau. The first time it happens is one of the scariest moments of JJ’s life. 

It’s the winter of freshman year and the Pogues—sans Kie—had gone to a party at the Boneyard to celebrate the start of winter break and two entire weeks away from school. John B had kissed a touron who was visiting from Indiana and Pope had been rejected but JJ had had sex with a girl a mile down the beach where it was secluded and nobody could watch. It hadn’t been the best sex, but it had been easy and it made JJ forget about two weeks at home for a few minutes. The girl had slid her jeans back on and left as soon as it was over and JJ laid down on the sand and watched the stars get brighter and brighter. 

Pope had found him an hour later and dragged him to John B’s van. 

“You need some coffee,” Pope insisted. “Or at least some water.”

Was he drunk? He couldn’t tell. He was definitely high though and the world was soft and fuzzy and Pope was standing really close to him. 

Pope shoved a water bottle in his hands and John B laughed from the front seat. JJ drank most of the water but it tasted weird so he left a few sips behind and let the bottle roll around the back of the van. JJ thinks he must be drunk because he doesn’t notice when John B drops Pope off at home and then is helping JJ stumble out of the van to his own house. 

“We have to be quiet, bro. Can you do that?” John B asks. 

“I have to go home, JB.”

“What? I thought you were crashing with me tonight.”

So did JJ. But suddenly the universe is spinning and JJ has to throw up and he thinks he’s going to have diarrhea and he just wants to be in his own bed tonight. Plus, he’s not really in the mood to watch Big John take care of John B. But he doesn’t want to say all that out loud.

“Gotta work in the morning,” is what he says instead. 

“Okay, whatever. Next time tell me before I drive all the way home.”

John B takes JJ home and JJ manages to slip through the front door and into the bathroom without his dad noticing. He watches as the brightness of John B’s headlights disappear between the blinds and the house is dark and he can hear his dad snoring from the living room. JJ throws up the entire contents of his stomach and sinks into the space between the toilet and the bathtub like it’s his lifeline. 

After about twenty minutes he had nothing left to spit out and he flushes the toilet and leaves the bathroom just to come face-to-face with his dad. 

It’s really bad that night and JJ is too drunk to fight back or to bite his tongue. It’s _really_ bad that night and JJ can’t figure out what he did wrong. 

When it’s all over JJ contemplates going right to John B’s house and hiding their forever. In the safety of his locked bedroom he takes a look in the mirror and realizes how fucked up he looks. He can’t explain it this time so he wipes the blood off his face with a t-shirt he found on the floor and crawls into bed. The blood is going to stain his sheets but his body has never hurt this badly in his life and he is far too exhausted to shower or change. So he cries himself to sleep and clings desperately to his pillow. He leaves the light on. 

In the morning, by the time JJ wakes up, his dad has left. Usually, on Saturdays, Luke likes to go play poker with his buddies or go fishing down on the dock. When JJ wakes up the sun is directly overhead and something everything hurts even more than it had last night. Probably because JJ is no longer drunk. 

He takes a shower and he rolls a joint and he tries to make himself look as normal as possible before he rides his bike over to the Chateau. 

“JJ, man. You look like shit,” John B comments when JJ teeters through the front door. The sun is too bright and John B is talking too loudly and JJ wishes he hadn’t come at all. “Seriously, what happened?”

John B reaches out to touch JJ and he know, _he knows_ , that John B isn’t going to hurt him but he stumbles back a step and he’s crashing into a bookshelf and a few trinkets fall off. 

“JJ?”

John B looks scared and nervous now, his grin gone and his shoulders tense. JJ really shouldn’t have come here. It was too soon. 

“Boys, everything okay?” Big John asks, coming out of his study and into the living room. He takes one look at JJ and he’s tugging John B to the side. 

“It’s alright. You eat breakfast yet?” Big John asks, motioning to the kitchen but keeping his distance. Sometimes JJ wondered if Big John knew, but he had never said a word so JJ figured it was just wishful thinking. “We have cereal. You want cereal?”

“Yes, sir,” JJ whispers, feeling the tears prickling at his eyes and it’s so stupid because he’s fifteen and he’s perfectly fine and John B wasn’t going to hurt him and neither is Big John. Big John fills him a bowl of cereal and John B takes a seat next to JJ at the table and JJ really wishes he wouldn’t. 

“What happened here?” Big John asks, scooting the bowl in front of JJ and circling his fingers in the general direction of JJ’s face. JJ tugs as the sleeve of his t-shirt and tries to get a spoonful of cereal but his hand is shaking and nothing will stay on the spoon. 

“Nothing.”

“You didn’t have that when I dropped you off last night,” John B adds and JJ really, really wants John B to leave because he shouldn’t have told Big John that. 

“I just fell, it was nothing,” JJ mutters between his teeth but he can feel himself starting to cry and he wants to grab the stupid bowl of cereal and chuck it across the room so it shatters and JJ can feel strong. But instead Big John is moving closer to JJ and his hand lingers above JJ for a minute before gently coming down to his arm. 

“JJ, bud, did your dad do this?” It’s quiet and it’s kind and JJ _knows_ John B can hear and he really wishes he wasn’t shaking because he’s fifteen and he shouldn’t be acting like such a baby and nobody can ever, ever know. 

JJ can’t speak but his body betrays him and he nods, feeling a cry heave out of his chest. 

“It’s okay. You’re alright.” Big John is pulling him into a hug and JJ really wants to die but Big John is also really steady and warm and comforting so he lets himself fall against Big John’s chest. “It’s okay, son.”

JJ is sobbing and crying and he can feel spit and snot collecting on Big John’s shirt and he’s never been more embarrassed in his life. 

Which makes it the perfect time for a knock of the door. JJ stiffens and he can feel Big John holding him tighter, There’s a squeaking sound as John B gets up from his chair. 

“Happy break!”

 _Pope_. 

JJ latches onto his Big John and shakes his head. Pope _cannot_ see JJ like this, he absolutely cannot know. 

“Pope, hey. Listen, bro, now isn’t really the best time,” John B explains in the distance, his voice sounding a lot shakier than JJ realized. Had _he_ made John B sound that scared? 

“Oh, uh. Okay. We still surfing with JJ today?”

JJ really hopes Pope can’t see him right now. 

“I’m sorry, dude. But I don’t think I can. Tomorrow?”

“Yeah, tomorrow’s okay.”

Pope sounds really disappointed and John B sounds sort of scared and JJ doesn’t ever want to look anybody in the eyes ever again. He hears the door click shut and hates himself more than he’s ever hated himself in his life. 

“It’s okay, son,” Big John says again. “We’re gonna figure something out.”

* * *

The solution that they figured out was that JJ could stay over whenever he wanted and for however long he wanted and nobody would ever ask any questions. It was an easy system and it meant JJ spent almost all of freshman year living at the Chateau. And then Big John left and JJ didn’t leave the Chateau at all. John B would cry most nights and JJ felt a bit less stupid when John B was hurting too. Sometimes JJ would shed a tear for Big John but never in front of John B because it wasn’t _his_ dad who had left. 

John B starts to after the gold and JJ loves to daydream about it but the entire thing scares him to his core because it only means one thing: John B is going to leave too. So JJ goes home a lot more because he can’t get so comfortable living at the Chateau.

* * *

JJ knows his dad is going to kill him for getting arrested. So he’s not completely sure why he does it. Well, he is completely sure. 

Pope.

Sinking Topper’s boat was JJ’s idea and JJ had told Pope exactly how to do it and JJ was the one with nothing to lose. 

Pope is his best friend. Maybe more so than John B. John B is a safety net but Pope asks questions and hugs JJ and helps him with his homework. Pope is easier to talk to than John B because he doesn’t know that Luke hits him and he doesn’t know that JJ has to leave a light on or the blinds open when he sleeps, and Pope is the only one of the Pogues who can match JJ’s witty comments with just the right amount of banter. But Pope is also constantly calling him out for saying something and acting stupid. And JJ loves him. 

Loves him like a brother, like a best friend, like he loves John B and Kiara. 

But then JJ is crying in the hot tub that he wasted all his restitution money on and Pope and Kie can see the bruises on his stomach and he almost killed his dad. Kie is hugging him and he’s sobbing and everything in the world has slowed down so all that’s left is the neon lights of the disco mode setting. Pope climbs into the hot tub with all of his clothes on and he holds onto JJ so tightly. 

JJ cries so hard and so long that by the time he can breathe again he is half asleep. He hasn’t felt this embarrassed since John B and Big John found out about his dad. This time it’s different because JJ is drunk and his filter is temporarily shut down. And the three of them are sitting in the hot tub and Pope has his arm around JJ as JJ drifts off to sleep against his shoulder. 

Kiara is holding his hand and her fingers feel even softer in the warm water. They feel like the hands of the girls who he sleeps with and she does look beautiful. But Pope’s hands are the only that leave JJ skin feeling tingly and gives his goosebumps. So for one night, while he is drunk as a skunk and high out of his mind, JJ melts against Pope and lets himself feel small and scared. 

At some point Pope is gently shaking JJ awake and Pope and Kie help him climb out of the hot tub and onto the grass. Kie leaves for a moment and disappears into the house. 

“I’m so sorry, JJ,” Pope says quietly, one hand coming pretty close to JJ’s waist and JJ isn’t sure why he can’t stop thinking about that. 

“Not your fault,” JJ responds, really not wanting to having this conversation with Pope. 

“I should have noticed.”

“Didn’t want you to.”

Pope’s free hand runs up and down JJ’s arm—probably to try and warm him up since they’re both shivering. JJ curls into Pope and tries to wipe the tears out of his eyes but it proves useless. 

“You told me at Midsummer and I still let you go home.”

“Shut up, Pope.”

“I shouldn’t have let you go home, I should’ve—”

JJ can’t listen to Pope blame himself another minute. 

“Shut up! It’s not your fucking fault.”

Pope opens his mouth to say something else but Kie is coming back out with towels and she wraps one around JJ and hands the other to Pope. The three head into the Chateau and JJ lets them guide him onto John B’s bed. He’s still wet but the towel has helped some. Kie rummages through John B’s closet to find something for JJ as JJ attempts to stop the annoying sniffles that keep bouncing out of his throat. There’s snot leaking from his nose and he wipes it off with his wrist. 

“Here,” Kie says, handing JJ a pile of clothes. 

She tugs at Pope’s arm to give JJ some privacy to change. JJ pulls off his wet swim trunks, underwear, and socks and leaves them in a pile on the floor. John B’s clothes are a little baggy, but JJ never wears clothes that actually fit anyway. He doesn’t call for Pope or Kie to come back inside, even though he really wants them to hug him again. Instead, he crawls under the covers and tugs them up over his shoulders. 

JJ falls asleep quickly and wakes up to the sound of Kie and Pope bickering in the kitchen as the smell of eggs wafts into the bedroom. JJ wants to hurry to the kitchen to see what they’ve managed to cook, but he also wants a few more minutes of morning bliss where he can forget that last night ever even happened. His stomach is screaming, though, so quickly he’s getting out of bed and slipping on one of John B’s hoodies. 

“Good morning,” Kie says first from her seat the kitchen table. She’s eating eggs and there’s a full plate of bacon on the table and three cups of coffee. Pope is stirring around more eggs on the stove but spins instantly when he realizes JJ has entered the room. 

“Sleep okay?”

JJ knows they’re just trying to be nice, but this isn’t how they usually talk to each other in the mornings. And they have never once tried to make a breakfast like this. JJ pulls the sleeves of the hoodie and sits down at the empty seat, nodding quietly. 

“Half of the bacon is burnt, but the rest is still edible,” Kie offers as she hands the plate to JJ. The bacon looks really good and JJ couldn’t care less if it’s burnt to a crisp. He would eat just about anything. 

He wants to say thank you but he still doesn’t trust his voice so he just takes a few pieces and sets them on his own plate. Pope comes around with the frying pan and loads his plate with scrambled eggs, preparing himself a plate as well before sitting down. 

Kie and Pope exchange a glance and JJ starts eating before they can ask him any more questions.

* * *

John B and Sarah don’t find the gold. John B is arrested when they get back but when his trial comes around they’ve already found the gun—with none of John B’s DNA on it—and Sarah is once again a credible witness when her doctor confirms that she is not Schizophrenic. Rafe is arrested by spring break of junior year.

* * *

JJ realizes he is in love with his best friend really late in life. Too late, actually. 

Late enough that Pope is loading plastic storage boxes full of clothes and office supplies into his pick-up truck to drive up to his dorm room. Late enough that Kiara is kissing him goodbye and John B has an arm around JJ to keep him steady. As if he knew how hard this moment was for JJ specifically. And JJ realizes he is in love with Pope when he refuses to let go, refuses to part from Pope’s hug and let his friend drive into the sunset. Drive off to his dream school. 

And JJ can’t let go. And he’s crying. And Kie and John B are watching as Pope, for some reason unbeknownst to JJ, is letting JJ just _cling_ to him. JJ hasn’t cried in front of anybody since that night in the hot tub. At least he had been drunk out of his mind and fresh off a fight with Luke. This time JJ had no excuse other than his desperate yearning to smell Pope’s sweatshirt one last time and keep Pope as close to home as possible. 

Pope had never planned on staying in the Outer Banks. Pope had dreams and ambition and he was so fucking smart that sometimes JJ felt completely insignificant in comparison. If anybody was going to get a full ride scholarship to—what was apparently the best forensic pathology school in the country. And was all the way in Missouri. 

“I’m gonna miss you too, dude,” Pope finally commented, a hand rubbing up and down JJ’s upper back. There was a smile and a laugh laced in Pope’s comment and JJ realized Pope was nowhere near as distraught as JJ was about the fact that Pope was going to be a thousand miles away. It was a sixteen-hour drive—not that JJ had looked it up or anything. 

JJ fought down more tears and tried to take a breath so he could collect himself. Still, he didn’t want to let go. Letting go of Pope meant letting Pope go. It meant that JJ wasn’t going to see Pope until Thanksgiving. 

“You better fucking text me,” JJ blubbered out, wiping furiously at his eyes and finally unraveling his fists from Pope’s sweatshirt. It was too hot for Pope to be wearing it but the guy was always cold and apparently summer in Missouri wasn’t exactly tropical. 

“I’ll text you every day.”

JJ knew he didn’t actually mean it, that he was just saying it to make JJ feel better. Maybe for a week or so Pope _would_ actually text him every day. After the first week or two, Pope would surely have made some college friends, start going out to parties with his new roommate. He would keep texting Kie because he loved Kie and couldn’t bare for any distance between them. 

But Pope would probably let JJ fade into the background until it was once a month, or never at all. JJ would switch his phone from vibrate so every time he hears a chime he will wonder if it’s Pope. But it will just be John B or his boss or maybe even his dad asking him to get the fuck home. He’ll watch Pope posting pictures on Instagram and wonder who all the faces belong to. 

Pope let his hands fall from JJ’s sides but before they said goodbye for good JJ pressed a quick peck to Pope’s cheek and then lingered around John B in case his legs turned to jelly. Pope just grinned and rolled his eyes as if he didn’t understand how much this fucking _hurt_. 

John B seemed to understand what neither Kie or Pope did and held his hand on JJ’s shoulder. JJ thought about brushing it off and reclaiming his pride but Pope wasn’t crying and every bone in JJ’s body was on fire and John B’s hand was the only thing that felt even somewhat okay. 

“I love you so much,” Kie hummed gently, tears looking so much prettier and softer on her face than on JJ’s grimy skin. Pope didn’t grin or chuckle when Kie threw herself into his arms—even though she had already gotten her goodbye hug, JJ noted. His eyes glistened and he nuzzled his face against her neck, pressing a kiss to her forehead and then a far more passionate one to her lips. JJ knew that Pope didn’t realize the effect it had on him. 

JJ didn’t realize the effect it had on him. Until he wanted Pope to be crying over him. Until he wanted Pope to be kissing him. 

And, _god_ , that was a new and entirely too obtrusive feeling. JJ wanted to choke, wanted to scream, wanted to reach inside and yank those emotions right out. But they were there and suddenly clear as day. 

He was in love with Pope. 

Kiara pecked Pope’s lips a few times, running her fingers across his cheeks as if she was trying to memorize every detail of his skin. Pope let his hands linger on her waist before they finally pulled apart and Heyward and Pope’s mom were closing up the back of the truck. 

“It’s really not that far,” Pope attempted to reassure them as John B tucked Kie under his other arm. “And I’ll be home for Thanksgiving and then again for Christmas.”

“We’ll be right here waiting for you,” Kie cried, voice trembling but fierce and loyal and confident in a way JJ couldn’t quite wrap his brain around. 

“Go live your weird corner dream, bud,” added John B, giving both JJ and Kie a squeeze. 

JJ wanted to say something but he could feel the sob threatening to spill out of his mouth so he just smiled and waved as Pope climbed into the backseat of the truck. 

“I love you guys.”

“Pogues for life,” John B promised. Kie was crying again and JJ could feel her shaking all three of them. Pope had tears running down his cheeks and John B was holding JJ really tightly and nothing about this moment felt okay anymore. It was all wrong. It was too soon. JJ wasn’t ready to say goodbye. He wasn’t ready. 

Heyward drove the truck out of the driveway and Pope stuck half of his body out of the back window to wave wildly with a smile so big and eyes so wet that JJ felt like he might just crumble away right then and there. 

“I miss him so much already,” Kie admitted as the truck pulled down the street, far enough that JJ had lost it over the horizon line somewhere beyond the trees and stop lights. 

“Me too.”

JJ wanted to add something but he couldn’t. He wanted to make Kie stop crying but he couldn’t stop himself from crying. Maybe for a little bit he could just hold onto John B and try not to think about the fact that he was in love with Pope. About the fact that he had probably just lost the best friend he would ever have. 

“Let’s go have a beer,” offered John B. Kie nodded and JJ let him both guide him down the street and away from the Heyward’s house. JJ didn’t turn around to give it a look as they walked away—Kie did though. That was too much for JJ to handle. It was all too much for JJ to handle. 

“I’m gonna need more than one,” Kie muttered between hiccupped breaths. She wasn’t crying anymore but her entire body was bouncing and her chest was heaving and JJ could tell she was fighting her sadness with every piece of her soul. 

JJ wanted to do the same but instead he felt utterly helpless. So he kept his mouth shut. 

“We could go down to the boneyard?” John B suggested. 

It was an incredibly stupid and selfish idea. To go to a party without Pope. To have fun at a time like this. 

“I think that would be a good distraction, actually. I’ll text Sarah to see if there’s anything go down tonight,” Kie agreed and JJ almost did a double take. Kie wanted to party when her boyfriend of two years had just up and moved across the country? JJ wanted to run for the hills—well, run to the Chateau and hide under John B’s duvet for a week and eat like thirty boxes of Oreos. 

“JJ?” John B asked as Kie pulled out her phone to send the text to Sarah. “You good with that?”

_No._

“Okay.”

It sounded less pathetic than JJ felt, which was good. JJ had always been a good liar. 

There was a party at the boneyard that night, Sarah had informed. By the time they got there Kie had calmed down but still launched herself at Sarah, hugging her as if Sarah had been the one who had left. Well, Sarah was leaving one day next week for Chapel Hill but that was completely different. Chapel Hill was like right in the Outer Banks’ backyard. Sarah was going to home doing laundry practically every weekend. 

John B’s arm left JJ and instead wandered to Sarah. He pressed a kiss to the top of her head and then headed over to the keg for the first round of drinks. JJ felt the sea breeze spinning all around him and he was dizzy without somebody to hold onto. 

So, like he often did when he was feeling a bit too helpless and overwhelmed, JJ took a joint from his pocket flipped open his zippo, lighting up as if his life depended on it. The first drag wasn’t enough to ease his nerves but it was enough to make his boots feel grounded in the dunes. John B shoved a solo cup into his hands and it felt heavy and substantial and real. JJ took another hit and then chugged half the drink. 

“To Pope,” Kie announced, lifting her drink into the middle of their lumpy little circle. 

“To Pope!”

“To Pope.” 

For some reason when Sarah said it, JJ sort of wanted to hit her. Not that he’d ever hit a girl. But he could think about it. This one time. 

Sure, Sarah had been hanging out with the Pogues since she and John B started dating, but she was never going to be a Pogue. And she didn’t _know_ Pope. Not like JJ did. 

“To Pope,” JJ uttered with far less conviction than the other but lifting his drink nonetheless. The second half of the drink went down easier and the more hits JJ took of his joint the softer his bones felt, the less the wind hurt against his skin. 

JJ knew better. He really did. He knew enough about alcohol and about weed to know that it wouldn’t make him forget—that it would only make everything amplified. But still he drank and he smoked until the sun had set and he couldn’t understand his own thoughts. He drank until he was sloppy—and JJ was _not_ a sloppy drunk. He drank so much that people he didn’t even know were offering him water as if he was a dying man. 

Kie was giggling in a happy tipsy state as her eyes still glistened and she explained to Sarah and John B how she had saved enough money to pay for gas to go visit Pope twice before break. John B had had only one beer and he was holding Sarah against his chest, plaiting her hair terribly and absentmindedly as he listened to Kie. Sarah was a few more drinks in than either of them, and almost as sloppy as JJ, but she was the happiest of the bunch and seemed completely content with her place in the world. 

JJ couldn’t stand to watch them and none of them seemed aware of how far gone JJ was. So he talked to the tourons and he shot-gunned a beer with some random girl from New Hampshire and made out with somebody who wouldn’t be able to point out of a crowd. 

None of it made him stop thinking about Pope kissing Kiara. None of it made him love Pope any less. None of it made him feel less hollow inside. 

But he gave John B a half-hearted thumbs up as he tugged some girl to his side and headed out for the night, He took her back to the Chateau even though he knew he would only feel worse in the morning. Maybe for a few minutes, at least, he would be distracted.

* * *

Kie and John B had both started school the week following Pope’s departure. John B was going to College of Albemarle, a community college on the mainland, and Kie had started at Elizabeth City State College, which was three miles away from him. Kie was living in the dorms but John B had stayed in at the Chateau. Once he aged out of the system, DCS no longer cared if he was living alone in the beat-up shack. They didn’t care if JJ was living there too—even before he aged out of the system. 

John B didn’t care much about school, never planned on going to college but ended up applying after the guidance counselor and Sarah convinced him to drop some eggs in a few baskets. It was cheap and community college had so much less pressure and it gave John B something to wake up for most days. And it was only three hours away from Sarah, so he was with her almost every weekend and JJ had the Chateau all to himself. 

Which was fun. For a weekend. And then it got lonely and sad really, really quickly. 

JJ was working at Heyward’s during the day, had been ever since the Heyward’s had taken JJ in the night of the shipwreck. He had started working full time the summer after senior year. JJ was still shocked he had managed to graduate with the amount of days he had skipped and classes he hadn’t turned in any assignments for. Passing with a C-average was still passing. And JJ had worked as hard as he ever would have—could have—to get a C in most of them. Most of the time, though, he just couldn’t care less. 

JJ had known his entire life he wasn’t cut out for college. The parties and the tailgating sounded fun but the classes, the money, the everything-else just sounded hellacious. And for what? So JJ could work some desk job that made him hate his life instead of spending his time fishing and smoking and avoiding Luke coming around the corner. 

In June, JJ had turned eighteen and the minute the clock struck midnight JJ was out of there. He packed a bag of everything he owned and he fled to the Chateau. He never had to go back. _He would, though_. But he never had to. John B let him have Big John’s room and with both of the boys working they had enough money to keep some food in the pantry and beer in the fridge. It was easy and slow and simple. 

And JJ loved it a lot more than John B did. For sure. 

John B wanted to go to school and go on adventures and meet up with Sarah and her new sorority friends on the weekends. John B wanted to learn _business_ for some unknown reason and contribute to society? JJ wanted to make enough money to buy more weed and lay out in John B’s hammock and watch the sunset over the marsh. He facetimed Kie a few times a week—often once or even twice a day when he was feeling extra lonely—and watched the Office and Wheel of Fortune reruns with John B at three am when John B had finished all his homework. And he checked his phone every fifteen minutes to see if Pope had responded, had sent him a meme on Instagram, had updated his Snapchat location. 

Sometimes JJ didn’t fall asleep at all. When the fall air became crisp at night and John B was either away or knocked out over an open textbook, JJ would grab the comforter from the bed and curl up on the hammock and scroll through his phone through the night. He would watch the early birds driving past on their boats in the morning to go fishing and then he would down a few cups of coffee and throw on a pair of clean pants and head down to Heyward’s. 

He was exhausted every day and he missed Pope every minute. 

“Come with me,” John B offered one Friday afternoon when he had returned home from class, packing up his backpack with a change of clothes and cologne and tossing his books onto the coffee table— _Sunday night’s problem_. “I’m serious, don’t give me that look.”

JJ wasn’t aware he had given John B any look. But he took another sip of his PBR and returned his gaze to Family Feud. The Turner family was absolutely creaming the Joneses. 

“JJ, come on. Kie’s coming too. It’ll be fun.”

“I have to work this weekend.”

“No you don’t.”

Why had JJ told John B his schedule again?

“Seriously, JJ. You haven’t left the house in like a month, man. Come to Chapel Hill with us. It’s gonna be super chill and we can sleep in a tent or in the van and we can get drunk off our asses.”

It should’ve sounded perfect. A few weeks ago it would’ve sounded perfect. A few ago JJ wasn’t pining and depressed and a million miles behind everybody else. 

“I don’t know,” he trailed, not wanting to meet John B’s eyes. 

The thought of being alone all weekend was a bit daunting but it also meant JJ could lay naked on the couch and blast his music as loudly as he wanted. He could fish all day and get so high that the world turned into a rainbow of purples and greens. But he would also be completely alone for an entire weekend while John B and Kie and Sarah were out living the way normal eighteen-year-olds were supposed to be living. Doing the whole college thing. 

“I’ll help you pack. You need to get out of the house, dude.”

JJ didn’t _want_ to get out of the house. JJ didn’t _want_ to hear about their semesters and their new friends and all the parties they had been going to lately. JJ really didn’t want to hear Kie talk about how hard it was to be away from Pope. JJ didn’t want to be reminded of how far behind Pope he was. How _far away_. 

“Do you have any clean clothes?” John B asked after rummaging through the piles of dirty laundry scattering JJ’s floor. When JJ didn’t respond, John B planted himself in front of the tv. JJ squirmed but couldn’t find a position where he could see the screen. 

“Hey! Not cool.”

John B flicked the tv off and crossed his arms across his chest. 

“Get up.”

“No.”

And maybe JJ was whining but the couch was so comfortable and he really, _really_ didn’t want to go on this weekend trip to Chapel Hill, and he had just smoked a joint and had finally started to feel his high. 

“Come on, bro. Get up,” John B demanded, reaching out to grab JJ by the arm. JJ was scrappy and strong but John B always managed to manhandle him into doing whatever he wanted and, before JJ knew it, he was on his feet and John B was shoving him lightly into his room. John B waved his hands around at the floor. 

“Is any of this clean?”

“Nope.”

“Okay, I’ll bring some of my clothes. Happy?”

“I’m not going.”

“JJ.”

JJ could tell he had struck a nerve and quite enjoyed the grumpy way John B was pouting, as if John B was his mom and wanted JJ to behave. 

“This is going to be a fun weekend.”

“For you.”

“We’re going to fucking Chapel Hill, man. Me and Kie, two of your best friends. And we’re going to chill and maybe go to a party and do literally everything you love to do.”

JJ was quiet, wanting to stick to his pout while trying to think of a way to talk himself out of this trip. 

“And I know you’ve been lonely lately.” John B’s eyes softened and JJ huffed out his chest so he didn’t feel so seen. “It’s okay. All of this is weird and new and I think it would do everybody some good to just hang out like old times.”

 _Not like old times. Not without Pope_. 

“I really want you to come, JJ.”

“Maybe some other weekend.”

“Why are you being so fucking difficult?”

John B was exploding and JJ shouldn’t have been so pleased to see his best friend that worked up. But his pouting was working and John B was fed up and maybe, just maybe, he would let JJ stay home when he remembered how annoying JJ could get. 

“I don’t wanna go, okay?”

“Why the hell not, bro?”

“Because.”

“That’s really mature, JJ. Come to fucking Chapel Hill with us.”

John B darted out of the room and JJ waited a moment—not understanding where the conversation had ended—but then decided to follow John B. The guy was packing up his toothbrush from the bathroom and grabbing extra clothes from his own closet. 

“John B, I’m not going.”

“Yes, you are.”

“No, I’m not.”

It was a completely childish argument but JJ was happy to have it. He wanted his weekend alone and he wanted to throw the biggest pity party he could in the privacy of his solitude. 

“Come on,” John B insisted, reaching out to grab JJ’s arm but he stepped back, avoiding the touch. “Fuck, JJ. What the fuck?”

“I don’t want to go, okay?”

“Dude,” John B sighed—JJ could feel the lecture that was about to roll off his tongue. “You need this, man. I know you didn’t want to go to school and you’re happy to be working, or whatever. But I also know you. I know that this isn’t easy for you.”

“I’m not in distress, JB.”

“You haven’t left the house in a week. When was the last time you showered? What about the last time you talked to a girl or like fucking smiled?”

John B wasn’t usually this observant and JJ wondered what else John B picked up on that JJ didn’t give him credit for. 

“Just one weekend, with your best friends. If you hate it, then I’ll never ask you come with us again.”

“Promise?”

“I swear on my life.”

Maybe it was just to get John B to shut up. Maybe it was because as much as a weekend alone doing whatever he wanted sounded like heaven, he was pretty lonely. And even if when the weekend was over JJ felt even lonelier, well, at least for a day or two he could pretend he was one of the kids who was going somewhere in life. One of those college kids who could pay thousands of dollars just to skip class and blackout in the basement of a frat house. One of those kids who wasn’t deeply pining away after somebody way too good for them. 

“Fine.”

* * *

“How’s Pope?” John B asked Kie as they drove down the highway to Chapel Hill in John B’s van. JJ was in the backseat with a joint between his fingers watching as the houses got bigger and bigger and the forests looked more and more manicured. John B and Kie had spent the first fifteen minutes talking about some Astrology test Kie had taken. JJ didn’t ask any follow up questions since he was still in a bit of a pouty mood after John B forced him to attended this stupid weekend. 

“He’s okay. I mean, he loves his classes but I think he’s pretty lonely. He hasn’t really found his people yet.”

JJ’s attention shifted from the joint to their conversation quickly. 

“He’s gonna find them. I mean, he’s got to join some weird forensic clubs and shit first, but he’ll make some friends.”

“I love Pope, really I do. But he’s not exactly great at making friends.”

 _Which was such a stupid thing to say—even if it was true—because JJ couldn’t think of a single reason anybody would ever not want to be best friends with Pope Heyward_. 

“He just needs to chill with the forensic pathology, corpses decaying and farting and shit, sometimes,” John B agreed. 

“No he doesn’t,” JJ piped in, annoyed that Kie and John B would say such a thing about their best friend. 

“We didn’t mean that he has to be somebody else. He just probably should lead with something else,” Kie defended. 

“Why?”

“Because then people won’t be scared of him,” John B added. Kie rolled her eyes at that. 

“No, JB. Because then they’ll realize he has other, less gross, interests.”

“But he loves forensic pathology,” insisted JJ. 

“That’s not the point, dude,” John B stated. 

“None of this is even the point. The _point_ is that Pope is adjusting.”

JJ wanted to argue that anybody who didn’t care about forensic pathology wasn’t worthy of being Pope’s friend but Kie and John B had already moved on to talking about Sarah and JJ couldn’t believe how quickly the topic had shifted. As if Pope wasn’t their best friend but just somebody who they talked about at a shallow, surface level. As if Pope didn’t mean the absolute fucking universe to them. 

JJ wondered what Pope’s dorm room looked like. He wondered about Pope’s roommate—who was named Mitch and was like obsessed with hunting. Pope had given JJ a brief run down the first weekend of the school year. 

He was taking a few classes that were going to be really fun and then an art requirement that he absolutely hated. Pope also hated the communal bathrooms because apparently, they were disgusting but JJ figured it was just Pope being shy and it made him smile. Pope had texted JJ a bit here and there but he spent most of his time studying—at least, that’s what he told JJ. 

JJ decides that it’s officially been too long since he’s heard from Pope and pulls out his phone.

**driving to chapel hill w kie and jb and they’re insatiable. not the same w out you**

JJ thinks about it and then deletes it all. Pope probably doesn’t want to hear about how annoying JJ thinks his girlfriend is sometimes. But JJ really wants to text him because the last time he did was four days ago and Pope had never responded. Granted, the conversation had come to a natural stopping point and JJ’s last message had been _haha_ and was sent around two am. But still, Pope had left him on read.

**road tripping with kie and jb. we miss you**

It felt a little less pathetic than the first one. It also felt a little more pathetic than the first one though. JJ deleted it all again and stuck his phone back in his pocket. He took out his zippo and light his joint.

“There’s no way in hell I’m going to a party with sorority girls,” Kie whined from the front seat, grounding JJ back into the moment. 

“Way to be a feminist, Kie.”

“Shut up, John B. I’m sure there’s some other party we can go to that doesn’t involve some petty girls named Brittany and Emily who spend the entire night listening to Top 40’s.”

“It’ll be fun. Sarah says they’re chill.”

“Sarah has shitty judgement. She’s dating you.”

“Ouch, Kiara. That really hurts.”

JJ doesn’t really care if they go to this party of not. Preferably they would turn around and head straight home and go fishing or binge watch some old late-night shows on John B’s shitty tv. Preferably, Pope would be there too. 

“JJ, back me up here,” John B pleads. JJ knows exactly what John B wants him to say and he decides to play along. He’s high and he misses Pope and there isn’t a text in the world that can capture how deeply he wishes he was with Pope that doesn’t sound completely stupid. 

“Hot girls, free booze: I’m in.”

John B grins and Kie slaps the back of JJ’s head—lightly, as she has ever since that night in the hot tub—and JJ knows that Kie will give in and go to the party. It never takes much to convince her, especially when JJ is the one asking. 

“Whatever. But if it sucks we’re leaving early.”

“Oh, absolutely,” John B chuckled.

* * *

By the time Thanksgiving break hits, JJ and John B have had three massive fights. The first one was about JJ refusing to socialize anymore—and in JJ’s defense, he had been a bit too defensive. The second big fight was about how John B kept forgetting to do the grocery shopping so JJ was paying for all the groceries all the times. After six hours of pouting, John B had apologized and now he Venmo’d JJ for half the grocery bill every time. The third big fight happened when John B found cocaine in JJ’s room. That one never really ended, but they went back to normal and John B would not-so-subtly drop comments about how JJ was throwing his life away. 

Kie drove home Saturday morning and JJ was over the moon to be around somebody who wasn’t either a coworker or John B. The three went out for breakfast at the Wreck and Kie was practically moaning the entire meal—whining to JJ and John B about how terrible the food at the dining hall was. JJ had a feeling it was much better than she gave it credit for.

The three were having a beer on the HMS Pogue when they saw Pope waving from the end of the dock. 

JJ’s heart wanted to explode when John B drove the boat right up to the dock. Kie lunged out of the boat and Pope had lifted her up off the ground, spinning her around with a smile so bright he could be the sun. JJ jumped off the boat but waited until the two had finished with their little reunion. He hesitated as John B beat him to the next hug. Typical John B took his sweet time, and JJ wanted to shove him right into the marsh but he waited as Kie bounced with glee. 

“Dude!” Pope cheered, reaching his arms out for JJ. He didn’t need any further insistence before he threw himself at Pope. Pope stumbled back a step but wrapped his arms tightly around JJ. It was JJ’s favorite hug he had ever received in his life and Pope was pulling away far too quickly and putting an arm around Kie. Leaving JJ on his own once again—of course, not understanding the effect it had on him. 

They all climbed back into the Pogue and Kie turned the music up on their speaker, JJ handing out PBRs as they all listened to Pope talk about how amazing his first semester was so far. Kie wouldn’t let go of Pope’s hand. 

After a few hours, the sea breeze grew too cold and the four headed back to the Chateau. It was the first moment in a very long time where everything in JJ’s life felt normal. He took a drag of his joint and offered it to the others. Kie took a hit but Pope and John B declined. _Their loss_. 

“How has Sarah been?” Pope asked once they had all curled up on the couches, fresh beers in hand and air chilled and slow around them. The heater hummed gently in the background and JJ pulled the throw blanket around him to keep warm. 

“She’s been great. I’m just waiting for the day when he breaks up with me though.”

“John B!” Kie scolds. JJ rolls his eyes. John B is always talking about how Sarah is too good for him but JJ thinks it’s stupid. Sarah is sort of annoying but she loves John B and John B doesn’t realize how lucky he is. He should stop wasting his time complaining and worrying. JJ knows that if he ever actually found somebody worth dating he wouldn’t waste every minute wondering when they were going to leave. 

Maybe.

“She’s good though, for real.”

“That’s good. And you, JJ? You haven’t said much all night.”

All eyes turned to JJ and, as much as JJ did love attention, he really didn’t want to talk about his life after everybody else had told amazing stories of parties or sleeping through tests or finding their fucking passions. 

“Just working,” JJ answered. If Pope texted him more often he would know that there was nothing else going on in JJ’s life worth mentioning. 

“Still at my dad’s?”

“Yep.”

“And snorting cocaine.”

John B did _not_ just say that out loud. 

“What the fuck?” Kie exclaimed. 

“JJ,” Pope added, softer but filled with disappointment. JJ slapped John B’s arm. 

“It was like two times!”

“It was more than twice, dude.”

“What the hell, JJ?” Kie asked again. 

“It’s not a big deal, Kie.”

“Actually, it is a big deal because it’s stupid,” Pope added, louder than before. JJ could feel his skin going pink. 

“I don’t need a lecture right now,” he sighed, getting up to get another beer from the fridge. 

“Is he okay?” JJ heard Pope whisper from across the room—probably thinking JJ couldn’t hear them. 

“I think he’s depressed.” 

_Fuck John B for bringing everything up tonight_. This was supposed to be fun. 

“Depressed? What happened?”

 _Fuck Pope for acting like he was suddenly so worried about how JJ was doing_. 

“He doesn’t leave the house, he doesn’t shower. I mean, I don’t even know what to do—” John B stopped talking when JJ walked back into the room. JJ threw a beer in his direction and John B caught it before it hit the floor. It had spun around and JJ hoped it would explode all over John B when he went to open it. The other three eyed JJ but Kie shifted the conversation onto an art project she was working on and JJ was very grateful for it. 

JJ offers Kie and Pope his room but they insist that the pullout will be just fine so JJ leaves them to it. Sleep isn’t going to come quickly though, so JJ takes a blanket and a joint and escapes into the backyard to set up shop on the hammock. The moon is full and the light shining through the windows of the Chateau is comforting as the water wades in the distance. JJ takes a deep breath in of his joint and lets his head fall back against the hammock.

“I’ve really missed you, dude,” Pope’s voice suddenly says and JJ almost falls of the hammock. 

“Shit, you scared me, Pope.”

“Scoot over,” Pope says simply, giving JJ’s side a small push. JJ scoots and Pope climbs very ungracefully into the hammock so their side by side. It sways with the new weight and JJ feels gravity tugging his body closer and closer to Pope. 

“Want some?” JJ asked, lifting his joint above them. Unsurprisingly, Pope shakes his dead. 

“Cocaine?”

“Don’t ask.”

“I have to ask, JJ. Why are you doing cocaine?”

“What else do I have to do?” JJ spits, words harsher than he intended. He lets his head fall to the side so he’s looking Pope right in the eyes. Their faces are really close together and JJ _knows_ what he wants to do. 

“What can I do?” Pope asks, gently and delicately and it makes JJ want to vomit. He shouldn’t speak so softly to JJ. 

“Nothing, bro. Go to college and study dead people.”

“You could go to college, if you wanted.”

The problem is, JJ really doesn’t want to go to college. He doesn’t want to study things or waste his life away on a job he hates. But he also isn’t happy working a minimum wage job and spending the majority of his time all alone. 

“You should come visit me. Campus is boring without you.”

Pope doesn’t realize that when he smiles it sets JJ’s skin on fire. Pope probably doesn’t realize that their lips are only two inches apart. JJ realizes. 

“You should come visit us more often,” JJ whispers, unsure if he wants Pope to actually hear him. They’re both quiet for a few minutes and Pope nods. 

“Are you okay, JJ?” Pope asks suddenly. “Be honest.”

“No,” JJ admits, because even though he’s a really good liar he doesn’t want to lie to Pope. 

“What can I do?” Pope asks again, this time his hand comes to rest on JJ’s arm and it’s not an invitation but JJ thinks in a fleeting moment that maybe it could be. And JJ really doesn’t have anything else left to lose. 

He presses his lips against Pope’s and it’s _such a bad idea_ because Pope isn’t kissing him and when JJ pulls away he’s panicking. In a rush to give Pope space he falls out of the hammock and onto the ground. Pope is tangled up in the hammock and JJ can’t breathe. 

“Shit, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry,” JJ rambles as Pope untangles himself from the hammock. JJ stands up and brushes the grass off his arms. He wants to cry. “Shit.”

“Hey, it’s okay,” Pope tries to reassure him, reaching out but JJ steps back. He can feel tears leaving his eyes and he’s really fucked things up this time. 

“Sorry. I know you love Kie and you’re straight and—”

And Pope is pulling JJ into a hug and JJ can’t stand up anymore. He _kissed_ Pope? What the hell? He cries and Pope holds his by the back of his neck and his lower back. JJ’s arms are wrapped around his own torso and he slumps against Pope so he doesn’t have to look him in the eyes. 

“Shit.”

“It’s okay, JJ. I’m not mad. Please, don’t cry.”

It’s too gentle and JJ isn’t a gentle person and he’s never been this angry at himself and it’s more embarrassing than the night in the hot tub but like a million. 

“I’m so sorry,” JJ says again because he doesn’t know what else to say. He tries to collect himself but he really doesn’t want Pope to let go of him. He really doesn’t want to talk about it. And why did it he choose to do it the first night? Why not the last one?

“JJ, it’s okay.”

It’s not okay, it’s really far from okay. 

“Please don’t tell Kie,” he pleads. JJ feels Pope shake his head. 

“Kie won’t be mad at you either.”

“Don’t tell her, Pope. Please.”

“Okay, alright. I won’t tell Kie.”

“And don’t tell John B,” JJ adds as Pope begins to pull away from JJ. 

“John B won’t be mad. We all love you JJ.”

“No, you don’t, though,” JJ admits lowly. Pope’s face falls and JJ wants to hit himself. _Why was he acting so fucking stupid?_

“You love me?”

 _Stupid_. 

JJ shrugs because obviously, yes, he loves Pope. Pope’s shoulders fall and he reaches out to touch JJ again. 

“Don’t,” JJ warns. “I’m so sorry.”

And JJ runs. He runs to the HMS Pogue and he digs the keys out of their hidden spot and he’s driving away as Pope is running down the yard trying to catch up with him. He can’t look back because if he does he might break forever.

* * *

JJ wanted to go to Yucatán but he only made it to the other side of the Outer Banks before the Pogue ran dry. The sun was rising and JJ could still feel Pope’s lips on his own and JJ really wished, for once in his life, that he didn’t live with John B. 

So JJ makes another stupid decision and goes home. To Luke. 

Luke isn’t home, though, so JJ just grabs a gun from Luke’s drawer and shoots empty beer cans in the backyard. It helps him breathe deeper each time the can goes flying from the tree stump were JJ had carefully placed them in a line. 

Of course, John B is the one who finds him. 

“JJ!”

He doesn’t hear first over the gunshots, with his noise canceling headphones on. 

“JJ” John B calls again, closer this time. JJ drops the gun and slides his headphones off. “What the hell, man? Why did you leave?”

Maybe Pope hadn’t told them. 

“Pope isn’t mad. Neither is Kie.”

So Pope _had_ told them. 

JJ put his headphones back on and went to reach for the gun but John B kicked it to the side and pulled the headphones off once again. 

“Talk to me, dude.”

“Why did you fucking tell them I tried cocaine?”

Maybe fight number four was about to start. 

“Because I’m really worried about you, JJ.”

“Then stop worrying about me!”

“And it’s not just the cocaine. You’ve been drinking and smoking like a lot.”

“Fuck, are you kidding? It’s not a big deal, John B.”

“It is a big deal,” John B pressed, grabbing JJ by his upper arms and holding him place. “It’s a big fucking deal and I’m really worried about you.”

“Just because I didn’t go to college doesn’t mean my life is falling apart!”

“I know.” His grip eased up but he didn’t let go. “I know, that’s not what I meant.”

“Then what? Huh?”

“Why didn’t you ever tell me you like Pope?”

JJ tried to wriggle out of John B’s grip but he couldn’t, so he settled for staring down at his boots. 

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

“It’s okay, JJ.”

“No, it’s fucking not!”

“Yes, it—”

“It’s not okay because Pope doesn’t like me back and never will and he loves Kie and I knew that but I still kissed him.” 

“They’re not mad at you.”

“Well, they fucking should be because it was selfish!”

“Come home and we can all talk about it.” John B tried to pull JJ with him but JJ held his ground, planted his feet below. 

“I’m never talking to them again.”

“Don’t be a drama queen, they’re your best friends.”

“No,” JJ demanded, voice fierce and angry. “I’m not fucking talking to them again!”

“Jesus Christ,” John B spat and suddenly he had JJ in the air and flung over his shoulder. 

“What the fuck? Put met he fuck down, bro!”

“You’re going to talk to them,” John B insisted, marching the two over to his van and flopping JJ into the passenger’s seat. “Because they are your best friends and they love you very much and we are all very worried about you. You can’t push us away.”

JJ huffed but John B slammed the door close before he could protest. 

They drive in silence and JJ is half tempted to open up the door and roll right out of the car as John B drives. But John B is driving really fast and JJ is feeling a little too vulnerable and so he crosses his arms and turns the music up so loud that the car shakes. 

Pope and Kie are waiting on the porch when they make it to Chateau. 

“I can’t, John B. Please,” JJ pleads, feeling his eyes water and he shoves that feeling down deep inside of himself. 

“Nobody is mad at you, JJ,” John B insists again, as if he thinks that it’s going to magically solve how humiliating this entire conversation is going to be. 

“Please,” JJ begs one more time. John B gives his hand a squeeze and then gets out of the van. JJ walks close to John B, staying a few paces behind him in case he needs to sprint again. 

Pope jumps up from where he and Kiara are sitting on the outdoor sofa and moves to hug JJ. JJ steps directly behind John B. 

“You can’t just run off like that,” Pope says, Kie getting up from the couch to join them. 

“I can do whatever I want,” JJ hisses, feeling cornered. John B pulls him out from behind him and this feels way too much like an intervention. “Sorry.”

“We love you, JJ,” Kie says, her voice caught in an emotion JJ can’t name. 

“I’m sorry.”

“Want to go fishing?” Pope asks she JJ stops a tear from rolling down his cheek. He nods and John B’s hand is on his back and Kie is smiling warmly. He feels like he’s ten-years-old but the four fill up a cooler with beer and bait and they head down to the dock since JJ had stole the Pogue. 

It certainly wasn’t the outcome JJ had expected when he kissed Pope. It wasn’t ideal but it was also far from JJ’s worst nightmare. Pope didn’t kiss him back, he didn’t love JJ back—even though there were so many times where JJ was sure he did. Pope also didn’t hate him. For some reason Kie wasn’t upset and all three of them still wanted to be friends with JJ. 

The worst part was, it only made his crush on Pope even stronger.

**Author's Note:**

> I don't really know what this was other than a very, very long ramble about JJ being helplessly in love with Pope. I've been wanting to write a Mayward fic for a while and this is was sadder than I intended it to be, but sometimes a story just decides for itself where it wants to go. This is truly a mess and very much un-beta'd so hopefully it still makes some sense.


End file.
